Pygmalion's Children
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: There's something about the statue that speaks to Jason, and he finds himself spending more and more time with it. JayTim


**Pygmalion's Children  
**

**A Word**: Leave your heart at the door, please.

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Jason storms out of the manor. Not caring how the door shudders as he slams it, or the scattering of the flower pots as he powers through the small patio. The faint cracking as one of them smashes is satisfying and Jason grins into the night. It's not the release he wants, not the release he _needs_, but Bruce refuses to let up. It's dark and prime time for Robin to be knocking teeth out of bad guys, but Jason's benched for the foreseeable future as Batman goes it alone.

The open area isn't as satisfying to stomp through, so Jason runs to the perfectly maintained forest behind the manor. Sprints across it like he wants to sprint across Gotham's rooftops, and keeps going when he's in the trees. It's not a real forest. The grass is carefully cut and any debris is picked up by a virtual army of gardeners that assault the grounds once a week. Cultivating the land just in case anyone might want to wander through it, and not want to deal with the mess that comes from a real walk through a real forest.

The row of hedges that mark the border of Wayne manor grounds comes up in under a minute. Jason doesn't slow his run as he jumps for a thick branched tree. Swinging up two branches to get a good height before launching himself out and over the hedges. He tuck and rolls as he slams to the ground on the other side, and it's enough, for a second, to pull an honest smile from him as he skids to a stop in a spray of dead leaves. His nose filling with the scent of earth and rotting vegetation.

The ground he's on now belong to a rich couple that aren't even in the country long enough to know they've got a small bit of forest, let alone care enough to maintain it. It's left alone to grow wild and natural like it should. Jason has to fight the forest to get anywhere, and the effort of finding paths around thick brambles or tearing through them drains enough of his anger that Jason can start to think clearly again.

It's total bullshit. Bruce is punishing Jason by benching him. Not for anything that Jason's done, but for what he _thinks_ Jason might or might not have done. He's punishing Jason because he doesn't trust him. Despite all that bullshit talk about being partners, about helping each other. It's all worthless words now because one truly worthless scumbag fell to his death.

Leaves crackle under his feet and branches snap as Jason takes a vague path toward the back of the property. Finding a rusted and falling down metal fence that's the marker. Without thought he turns right and follows it.

Jason's not sorry the fucker is dead. If anyone deserves it, it was him. He's not going to waste any energy mourning him or being guilty over something that _wasn't his fault_! Except, maybe he should have, because then Bruce wouldn't be side eying him all day. Obviously wondering how accidental that fall really was, and not just coming out and saying it. Working hard instead to shut down any chances Jason might have of bringing it up and clearing the air.

The garden comes into sight as Jason's starting to grind his teeth to nothing. It's overrun with ivy and thorny bushes. The benches broken and dirty, but Jason relaxes as he steps into it. He ignores the broken benches and hops up on the pedestal that's the central focus point. He turns his face to rest against the cool marble stone of the statue that shares the pedestal with him. "Things are fucked up so bad."

The statue sits still and silent. It had been just another lump of ivy when Jason first found this corner of the forest, and Jason would have ignored it if it weren't for the hand reaching out of the greenery. It had glowed in the sun's light and Jason had ripped away the plants to find out what was underneath.

Underneath was a stunningly detailed statue of a boy around Jason's age. Sitting prim and proper on the crumbling pedestal. An image of perfection that doesn't match the aging remains of the area it's in. It's hand reaches out, fingers curled up like it's reaching for something. Something just out of reach and denied, Jason always thinks, because the statues face is cut in a way that any light reaching it throws shadows across the face. Shadows that cast it's fine boned expression into something that's undeniably sad and longing.

Alone and forgotten. Jason had turned this lost little corner into his own personal haven over the time he's been living at the manor. Finding himself here more and more often. Existing in silence under the statue's eyes or filling the quiet with stories of his life. Of the night, of Robin.

It helps more often than not. His anger draining and his confusion disappearing within minutes of sitting next to the statue.

"He's not letting me do anything," Jason says into the stone of the statue. Not moving as he absorbs the coolness of it. Using it to calm down the heat that's been burning his face up since he stormed out of the Cave. "He won't even _listen_ to me now. Not about going out, not even about what I had for breakfast! How much longer before he drops me off right where he found me?"

Jason's bitter. He's not even trying to hide that anymore. He's waiting around the manor these days dreading the moment Bruce to realize what Jason saw coming the first night he got benched weeks ago. That Jason's not going to go out as Robin ever again, that he's not going to be attached to the Wayne name for much longer.

Bruce doesn't trust Jason, and Batman can't afford to have anyone untrustworthy around.

"It's over," Jason says through a block of anger and pain. Closing his eyes to stop the burning in them from spilling over because _damn_ if he was going to be weak about this. He was better than that. "I'm. I-"

Jason's breathing is ragged and sucking in a lungful of air hurts. It hurts like the fire and Jason's shaking so hard he's bruising his face against the statue. The full weight of what's going to happen hitting him sudden and hard.

He's going to lose it all. Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Dick. He's going to lose the people he's just started to think of as a family. He's going to lose Robin. The mask and shoes and stupid scaly underwear that _means_ something. That's become something that Jason needs as much as he's found he needs a family. It's gone. Over and done with. Garzonas' last fuck you to the world hitting Jason hard where it really hurts.

Jason gasps, tears escaping his closed eyes despite how hard he fights to keep them in. How hard he fights to not be so damn _hurt_ by it all.

"Jason," his name is a sigh in the air and warm arms wrap around him. Holding tight as Jason chokes back the childish sobs that want to escape. Jason's clutching soft flesh and softer cloth. Being soothed and held. "It's alright, Jason. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

Jason opens his eyes and quickly rubs the tears that escape away. Pushing away and looking up.

There is no statue anymore. There's just a boy sitting next to him blinking up at him with very blue eyes. Black hair frames the familiar fine-boned face, his skin pale but flushed like living skin should be. Thin lips quirk up in a shy smile as Jason just stares, "Hello, Jason."

"What?" Jason croaks out, and then coughs, loud and harsh to clear his throat from that embarrassing croak. Thin fingers grip his arms as the guy leans forward. His smile growing in a way that makes Jason have to clear his throat again. "How are you-"

"I forgot," the pale boy says. His fingers traveling up Jason's arms and to his face. His hands are unbelievably soft against Jason's skin. He's caught by the feeling as much as he is by the look of absolute wonder lighting the boy's face up. "It's been so long, Jason, since I was left. I almost forgot who I was when you found me."

"Who you are?" Jason repeats numbly. His head reeling a bit from the whiplash of emotion. Anger to grief to confusion to- Jason swallows as the boy leans up to nuzzle just under his chin. _That_.

"Tim," the boy breathes out, fingers going up to thread into Jason's hair. Pulling him down gently. "My name is Tim," Tim's eyes glow fiercely in the faint light of the moon as he looks Jason in the eye, "and I'm yours now. I'll never, ever leave you or forget about you."

"Ever," Jason whispers against Tim's soft lips as the boy pulls them together. Their lips pressing and sliding together in a way that makes absolutely everything else fall away from Jason's mind. Leaving him alone in a world that only contains Tim's body pressing against his, and the solid warmth spreading from Tim's lips to Jason's chest.

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The sun rises hours later and seeps slowly through the canopy of leaves created by the trees. Beams of diffuse light fall on the clean marble skin of two statues sitting on a crumbling pedestal. The stone is carved into the likeness of two boys, one larger than the other, twined together in a passionate kiss. So closely entwined it would take a very discerning eye to see they're made of two different blocks of stone and not one. A thin tendril of ivy touches one of the boys' feet. The first step the climbing plant will take to cover the oblivious statues. Hiding them from the world's sight and encasing them in a dark green world that only contains the two of them.

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End file.
